The Darkslayer: Series 2, Box Set #1, Books 1 - 3 (Bish and Bone)

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The Darkslayer: Series 2, Box Set #1, Books 1 - 3 (Bish and Bone) Page 37

by Craig Halloran


  Deeper he went into the shallow river that formed small lakes. He carried on, careful of the lanterns and torches illuminating the gloom with soft, wavering light.

  His heart raced. His nostrils flared.

  Kill them!

  “I see something!” one man pointed Venir’s way. “Over there!”

  Venir sank into the water and scraped along the bottom on his belly, away from the light and the craft that were coming. Long and hooked sticks jabbed into the water, just missing his feet. He swam underneath one craft and waited. All he could see was the faint light shimmering above, and all he could hear were the sticks jabbing into the water. But he was drawing a crowd.

  His lungs began to burn.

  Aw, piss on this!

  He braced his back on the river bottom, gathered his legs over him with his feet against the craft, and heaved upward.

  Men and underlings screamed in surprise. The craft toppled over, and Venir emerged.

  “There he is!” one man cried.

  A chorus of chitters arose.

  Venir’s muscle-laden arms were already swinging.

  He gored an underling with Brool’s tip, picked it up out of the water, and slung it into another rogue-filled craft.

  Hack!

  Blood sprayed from one man’s busted chest.

  Slice!

  An underling’s head popped from its shoulders.

  “Son of a Bish! What is that beast?”

  Shield strapped to his back, Venir swung hard and fast, each cut filled with fury.

  Hack! Chop! Slice!

  He gored. He speared. He decimated.

  “I’m getting the slat out of here!” one man yelled, paddling away.

  Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip!

  A barrage of underling bolts feathered the fleeing man’s back.

  Venir chopped through man and through craft. His movement was not slowed by the water, but his enemies’ was. He swung Brool into one man’s shoulder, severing his arm. He gouged a sapphire eye from an underling’s face.

  Brool was an arc of death. Everything coming inside its radius died.

  Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip!

  The underlings on shore fired another volley.

  Venir jerked up Brool’s broad blade, ricocheting the bolts away.

  Roaring, he headed straight for them. “RAWR!” His boots sloshed up onto the shore just as two underlings cut into his path and stabbed at his gut. Venir twisted left, spun a half circle, and turned one underling’s back into a pool of blood.

  The second underling slashed.

  Venir turned, caught the blow on his shield, whipped back around, and skewered its chest.

  Crunch!

  Towering over underling and man alike, Venir hewed them down in lightning-fast strokes.

  Nine!

  Chop!

  Ten!

  Hack!

  Eleven!

  Rip!

  Slice!

  He missed. His battle-enraged mind settled. No one was there. Underlings stood back with their weapons brandished, wary. Men paddled away on their boats, crying out and muttering.

  “Let the fiends have at him.”

  “I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “My brother’s dead. His face is caved in. Blecht!”

  Helm pulsated on Venir’s head.

  He could hear and feel the terror in the atmosphere he created. He liked it. Broad chest heaving and lathered in blood and sweat, Venir bellowed out, “Come on, you cowardly dogs!” He shook his axe. “Come! Fight!”

  The underlings, gemstone eyes glittering, remained still.

  Venir took a full stride forward. “Then I’ll bring my axe to you!” He took another step and stopped. A ferocious howl rose from behind him in the cave tunnels. He twisted his metal-laden head around.

  Albino urchlings and huge, mangy dogs poured, shrieking and barking, from those tunnels.

  The frenzied horde would overwhelm him in seconds. He dug his boots into the dirt and faced the enemy.

  “Son of a Bish!”

  Chapter 18

  Melegal had weakened his bonds by sawing at them with his diamond-dust-covered fingernails.

  Wait for it.

  As soon as the underling dropped the sack over his head, he twisted his bony wrists from his bonds and struck. His hand latched onto the underling’s wrist, and he summoned a charge of power from his ring.

  Zap!

  The underling stiffened and fell limp.

  Sensing the other underling coming for him, Melegal dove on its ankles and squeezed.

  Zap!

  The underling twitched and fell.

  “Seize him,” Palzor cried out to his guards. “Kill that bony wretch!”

  Palzor’s voice was all Melegal needed. His mind underneath his grey cap glimmered. His thoughts became sharp razors. Freeze!

  The two guards came at him, booted feet scrambling over the planks.

  Melegal jerked his hood from his face and slung his elbow into one of the guards.

  The next brute slammed into him, crashing him to the floor.

  Melegal clutched the man’s throat.

  Zap!

  In a clamor, the big man twitched and collapsed.

  Melegal twisted out from underneath the man just as the other guard’s sword ripped from its sheath.

  “Be still, you, else I cleave you in two!”

  Melegal lifted his shoulders and said, “That will never happen.”

  The guard lunged with a well-placed jab straight for Melegal’s heart.

  Melegal’s mind was faster, and his body less than a breath behind. He sidestepped the blade, spun backward, and rammed a well-concealed thumb knife into the guard’s temple.

  “Urk!” The guard toppled to the floor.

  Melegal kept moving right past Palzor’s time-frozen stare. The King of Thieves had the dart launchers pointed where Melegal had been battling underlings moments ago.

  Perfect. Close, but perfect, if I do say so myself.

  “What’s going on? What’s going on?” Fogle said.

  Hearing the wizard’s muted cries, Melegal jerked the hood from Fogle’s head and cut his bonds.

  “How?” Fogle said, staring at their frozen enemies with widening eyes.

  “Never underestimate The Rat,” Melegal said.

  “Your nose,” Fogle noted, “it’s bleeding.”

  Melegal dabbed his finger into the small trickle of blood. His head didn’t hurt, much. He checked his surroundings. Nothing more impressive than impressing yourself. He unlatched his dart launchers from Palzor’s arms and strapped them on his own.

  “How did you do that?” Fogle said, snatching up his spellbook. “Honestly, how did you?”

  Melegal tipped his cap. “A thief never tells.” He patted Palzor down and emptied his pockets one by one. He whispered in his ear. “You’re fast, but not faster than me. Nor half as clever.” He then jerked off Palzor’s boots, tore off his shirt and shoved him to the floor.

  “Pull off his trousers, will you?” Melegal said to Fogle.

  “Why?”

  Melegal eyed him. “Don’t you think Palzor’s wishing he stripped me by now?” He unbuckled Palzor’s belt and ripped it off. He then cracked the man across the back.

  “Melegal! What is the meaning of this?” Fogle said.

  “He deserves it. He knows it.” He kicked the man in the ribs.

  “That’s enough!”

  Melegal kicked him again and again. “Have you forgotten this man gave us to the underlings, bound and helpless?”

  “No, but I’m sure the City Watch—”

  “Ar
e you jesting with me, Fogle? He has the City Watch eating out of his hand, and so do those guys,” he said, glancing at the underlings. “Which reminds me.” He picked up one of the fallen guards’ swords and stabbed it through one underling’s back and then the other’s. “Got any problems with that?”

  Fogle shook his head. “I understand your point, I’m just surprised by your action!”

  “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised by your inaction.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You boast of being this formidable mage, and you fall prey to some sleeping pellet?”

  “I had a plan, and it would have uncoiled at any moment.”

  “Sure,” Melegal said, winding cords around Palzor’s feet and wrists. He tied another around his mouth. “But at least you managed to get this man’s pants off him. Well done, wizard.”

  “So what’s the next part of your plan? I’m curious, seeing how we have no idea what’s on the other side of that door.”

  “I thought you would have something in that book of yours.”

  Fogle didn’t respond, but his lips were moving over the pages.

  Melegal slid over to the door and put his ear to it. Certainly if others were nearby they would have heard the scuffle. But the door was fairly heavy. He pushed down on the handle and cracked it open, revealing a large room full of shelves and crates.

  Interesting.

  Torches hung on the windowless walls, and the ceiling was that of a warehouse or barn. A depot of sorts.

  “Are you coming?” Melegal said to Fogle.

  The mage opened and closed the spellbook three times, shrinking it to the size of his hand. “I’m ready,” Fogle said.

  “A little late for that,” Melegal said, “but maybe it will come in handy the next time you’re kidnapped.”

  “You have a sharp tongue.”

  “And blades to match,” Melegal said, pushing the door open. “Now go.”

  “What about Venir?”

  “It seems he’s doing more good down there than up here.”

  Fogle batted his eyes.

  Melegal rolled his. “You aren’t really wanting to go down after him, are you? After all, what would Kam do if you both died?”

  “You’re joking.”

  Melegal lifted his brows. “Am I?”

  Fogle huffed. “What about Palzor?”

  “I’ll take care of him. You just get your book-toting arse out of here!” With a firm push, Melegal shoved Fogle out the door.

  “Are you not coming?”

  “Do you need me to hold your hand? Go rescue that fiery witch from Jaen.”

  “You should come.”

  “I’m no hero, I’m a thief.” Melegal closed the door in Fogle’s face.

  Chapter 19

  “Brak!” Jubilee shook him. “Wake up!”

  Brak blinked his blurry eyes. “What are you doing, Jubilee?”

  The sandy-headed girl climbed up on his chest and slapped him in the face.

  Smack!

  “What did you do that for?”

  “Get mad, Brak!”

  “Why?”

  Smack!

  “Will you stop that!”

  “Are you getting mad?”

  “No.”

  Smack!

  “Yes!”

  “That’s better, now get really mad!”

  Brak’s eyes turned red. “You’re being silly. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because you’re a stupid ugly cripple!”

  Smack!

  “I am not!” he yelled. “Why are you saying this?”

  “Because you’re a useless lump of flesh and bones!” Jubilee reared back.

  Brak caught her hand. “Don’t do that again!”

  Jubilee swung her other hand.

  Smack!

  “Get off me!”

  “No!” she yelled in his face. “You want me off, push me off!”

  “You’re crazy!”

  “No, you are!” she said, pounding his chest. “Go crazy, you big-faced bast—”

  A heavy pounding came at the door. Gruff voices shouted, “Open it, little girl! We know you’re in there!”

  “What’s going on?” Brak said.

  “Kam’s in danger! We all are!”

  The frame of the door splintered. The door fell into the room. Two soldiers entered, roughhewn men with weathered faces.

  “Come with us, girl, else we run you through!” He spat on the floor. “You, man, get up!”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t?” the soldier pulled out his sword.

  “He’s crippled!” Jubilee shot back. “Leave him alone!”

  “Hah! Come with us then, girl, and we’ll see the cripple well cared for.”

  “You leave her alone,” Brak said, pushing Jubilee behind his bed with his good hand.

  “Ha ha ha! A courageous cripple. Never saw that before.” One soldier guarded the door while the speaking one stormed over. “My father says the only good cripple is a dead one.” He raised his sword. “And by the looks of things, you’re going to need a boat for a coffin.”

  Jubilee screamed and dove on Brak’s chest. “Don’t kill him! Don’t kill him! I’ll do as you say!”

  The soldier grabbed her by the hair and jerked her off of Brak. “You’d better believe you’ll do what I say, little honey.”

  “Let her go!” Brak yelled.

  The soldier stabbed him in the leg.

  Brak didn’t even groan.

  Jubilee started kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs.

  “He didn’t feel a thing!” the soldier said.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” Jubilee screamed.

  All the soldiers did was laugh.

  Hidden in a hallway closet, Jasper watched two soldiers march by, banging on tavern room doors.

  What do I do? What do I do?

  Part mage and part thief, Jasper had had it easy all her life. She trained, she studied, she stole. But when she met Melegal, the stakes had been raised. Now she found herself making life-or-death decisions. And she was too young to die.

  She recalled a spell in her mind and left it ready on her lips. Sneaking down the hall on hands and knees, she peeked through the balcony railing. Kam was pinned down on a table, and Jaen was behind the bar, laughing. Jasper didn’t care much for either of them, but she didn’t care to watch Kam getting defiled, either.

  I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.

  She knew that Jaen was a mage of the highest caliber, every bit as dangerous as she was beautiful. She’d teleported Jasper and Melegal from the ground into the tower! Such mastery was incomprehensible to Jasper. So were Jaen’s acts of evil.

  Embrace the madness and live. Shun it and die. Melegal had told her that and some other interesting things. Nothing better than a deadly surprise.

  Closing her eyes and picturing the scene, Jasper stretched her slender arm through the balcony rails, spread out her fingers, mumbled, and released her powers.

  A bright flash erupted over the soldiers’ eyes, bathing the room in an ultra-bright light.

  The soldiers moaned and howled.

  “Argh!”

  “Who dares?!” Jaen shouted. “Who dares?!”

  Jasper opened her eyes in time to see Kam kick the men and scramble away. Next, Jasper’s eyes fixed on Jaen’s.

  “You!” Jaen said.

  Jasper felt power hit her in the chest.

  If you’re going to be brave, make it count before you get killed.

  “Seize her!” Jaen ordered. “Seize her and bring her corpse to me!”

  The
soldier lanced Brak’s other leg with the point of his sword, drawing dark red blood.

  “Stop that!” Jubilee said.

  “He can’t feel it, heh. And I find it entertaining.”

  She bit the man’s hand.

  “Agh!” The soldier’s sword clattered on the floor. “I’ll skewer you next, you little—”

  Brak stood upright, nostrils flaring, with only the whites of his eyes showing. His fingers latched onto the soldier’s neck and hoisted him from the ground.

  The soldier’s legs dangled and twitched. His tongue juttered from his mouth. His neck snapped with a sickening crack.

  Jubilee swallowed hard and backed up into the other guard.

  “What is that man?” The large soldier’s voice trembled as they both stared.

  “He’s all the bad things you’ve ever done, coming back to get you.”

  The soldier grabbed her and held his sword to her neck. “Back off, or I’ll cut her throat open.”

  Brak grabbed the fallen soldier’s sword and came right at them, a towering and terrifying thing.

  “We need to run!” Jubilee said, squirming.

  “I-I-I never run from anything,” the soldier said. “Back off, ogre!”

  Brak’s giant stride didn’t slow. His sword went up and came down.

  The soldier raised his sword arm.

  Clang!

  Brak’s blade shattered metal and carved into skull.

  Squealing, Jubilee twisted out of the dead man’s grip and dashed down the hall. She ran into Jasper at the balcony.

  “Don’t go this way!” Jasper said.

  “No, don’t go that way!” Jubilee cried.

  “It’s too dangerous, Jubilee.”

  “No,” the girl said, shaking her head and pushing the dark-clad mage toward the stairs. “You have to trust me!”

  Jasper wrestled her to the ground. “Jaen is down there!”

 

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